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Poem

Walking up the winding path
inside the cemetery where my family is buried;
the path leads me through the oldest parts, and I recall
haunted stories of childhood.

Breathless, I walk faster and whisper a prayer;
another turn, then another, oh am I lost!
Turning around in circles-  I see through trees the sun;
even the hushed angels sigh for me as quickly I walk
down a path familiar-  finding my family tomb.

Butterflies dance and twirl, and
reaching branches of willows drape the stone;
everything is still and quiet, even though birds sing, oh 
a red rose in my hand is now wilted dead;
the words engraved I now read with bated breath, I remember
happy blissful memories and sadly, too soon deaths.

___________________________
August 21, 2019


Poetry/Acrostic/With Bated Breath
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1174-813-02
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.


Written for the contest, Pick A Title, Vol. 8 - Acrostic
sponsor, Edward Ibeh, Title Chosen #5, With Bated Breath

Second Place

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